


Better To Burn

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [58]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 20:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17669384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: For all this, Tony couldn’t extinguish the fire inside him. This small inexplicable thing that told him there was something undefinable between them, a connection born not of saving the world but simply of them. It was stupid and childish and something that he simply couldn’t beat to death.





	Better To Burn

**Author's Note:**

> To many sweet updates lately so some angst to even it out.

   Tony watched in silence from his place in bed as Stephen finished tying on his tunic, as the Cloak, which had disappeared into the Tower, returned to his shoulders, the ever-faithful companion. He watched as Stephen slid on his sling ring, as he shot him a smile, which he weakly returned, and as he opened a portal only to disappear through it without a word. He was left naked and tired in a bed of his own making. He looked around the room, slid his hand into the empty space next to him and couldn’t shake the cold that seemed to spread inside him. He debated taking a shower but, in the end, discovered he couldn’t quite stand to erase all the evidence that they had been together. He fell asleep, wondering how things had ever turned out this way.

   Tony did not consider himself a coward. Selfish, inconsiderate, indulgent, reckless, all these things he would readily admit to, had the video evidence to prove it. But coward or pathetic had never been in his vocabulary, at least not until the aftermath of Titan, not until a tall sorcerer with piercing blue-green eyes died for him and told him to save the world.

   The aftermath. The aftermath had been nearly unbearable, had been mind breaking and heart-wrenching but that image of the man fading into dust with an all-consuming trust in his eyes saw him through. He had thousands of reasons to do it, the most obvious of which being a red-head and a spider-boy. Yet for some reason, when all was said and done and he was moments away from wielding the gauntlet and returning what was broken, the only thought in his mind were those eyes, that voice, that face, that faith. The image had consumed him for months and if he was honest with himself…he fell in love with him at the same time.

   So, when he was finally standing in front of him, a familiar smirk and something suddenly overwhelming and unreadable in the depths of those reflective eyes, what did he do? How did he react? Like a coward, like the shell of the man he was.

   Somehow that was what he was now. In the days and months that followed Tony was slowly pieced back together by this sorcerer who managed to remain as mysterious as ever, no matter how hard Tony tried. He found himself sitting in that museum, listening to his voice as he distracted him from nightmares, as he explained what the Soul Stone was like, as explained in the blandest of terms what he saw in the Time Stone, now hanging back around his neck.

   All the while, Tony ached something fierce. He was not a stupid man, in fact that was the furthest from what he was, and he _knew_ , he _knew_ that Stephen hid things from him, important things. It was in the way he would sometimes clutch the Time Stone, eyes going distant. In the way he would occasionally mouth the words not quite leaving Tony’s mouth. The way he looked at him like a puzzle he couldn’t solve. The way he smiled, shaky and weak, as though he were waiting for something catastrophic to happen.

   Tony didn’t concern himself with those.

   What he latched onto, desperately, obsessively were the other clues, the ones that made his heart swell with hope. It was the softness in his eyes, the longing looks when he thought Tony wasn’t looking, the small gestures of tenderness that bellied his harsh stoicism; like the time he woke with a blanket over him, like the time Stephen stayed by his hospital bed all night. He liked to think he wasn’t crazy, that there was real affection there, that he had done something right for the man to see him like Tony saw him.

   But Tony was a coward and he let it be poisoned.

   He thought for once in his life, he could be selfless enough to accept this man’s friendship. To bask in the brilliance of his mind, to find humor in his dry sarcasm, to confide the horrors of his head in shared trauma. He was wrong, he was weak.

   After they slept together for the first time, drunk and high on the endorphins of victory, it all came crashing down in the way Tony’s life liked to. It would have been the simplest thing in the world to ask him to dinner, to turn their innumerable study days into study dates, to wine and dine the man as per his usual technique. Yet, it never turned out that way, the uncertainty in Stephen’s eyes whenever he got to close, stayed his hand. The spasm of distress that shot across his face the first time Tony had spoke of love, not to him, but in the general sense, made his gut twist and swallowed his words.

   For all this, Tony couldn’t extinguish the fire inside him. This small inexplicable thing that told him there was something undefinable between them, a connection born not of saving the world but simply of them. It was stupid and childish and something that he simply couldn’t beat to death. So, the pattern continued.

   They shifted into this thing that was determined to tear out Tony’s heart and crush it to a pulp while Stephen carried on as oblivious as ever. When Stephen walked into a meeting room at the compound to discuss a new inter-dimensional threat and he nodded at him as if they were nothing more then acquaintances, as if just last night Stephen hadn’t fallen apart above him, hadn’t kissed his lips like was irreplaceably precious, like he hadn’t held him close for nearly thirty minutes afterwards while they caught their breath, Tony _burned_.

   For a wild moment, as he sat in that room, Tony didn’t know if it was hatred or love anymore. There were words that he wanted to say, words that he wanted to throw like stones until they struck with enough force to startled something from the man, the truth, an emotion _something_. Yet, deep down, what he wanted more then anything, was to know where he went wrong. Stephen trusted him to save the universe, had seen something in that god damn Stone of his that had made those trusting eyes shine with the same flame Tony felt everyday since. But here they were, stuck in this vortex and he wanted to know if this was what Stephen saw and if it wasn’t, what Tony had done to make himself unworthy of this man.

   Like Tony said, he was a coward. So, he didn’t. He locked the words down inside himself because of the fear he detested, that said if he got it wrong, that if Stephen was simply waiting for something else, some unknown event swimming in the Stone that taunted him, he might lose his chance. Tony couldn’t lose this. As much as it hurt, he couldn’t stand to lose this man’s friendship, lose their nights tougher, lose the thing that kept him trying.

   Until he stopped being afraid, until the moment his cowardly heart found its strength again, Tony decided he would take the cold comfort of light touches, gentle lips, and an empty bed. It was better then nothing, to burn, whether it be from love or hate.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts and opinions make my day ;)


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